My son was in tears this morning - apparently the grey child has come back which means it's either immune to exorcisms or the priest we used wasn't a true enough believer for the damned words to stick. I thought we dealt with it months ago and now we're back to square one again.
At least we already know what will and won't work, which rooms it favours and how to remove mammalian viscera from the new carpet. These are lessons we learnt the hard way during the early days of its visits, back when our son thought they were just playing games and that the little animals weren't real.
Now he knows better and the fact that he's told us so quickly means we can act quickly and minimise the initial damage - salt on the windowsills and in the corners of every room, iron nails in our pockets and phones in aeroplane mode in case the little brat calls the police again.
It's unbelievably difficult to convince them that the call was made from your phone but the child who called has been dead for potentially well over a century. It's hard to say for certain when it refuses to give us its name and is dressed in a long white nightgown that could be from anywhere in the last few hundred years.
Tonight will be quite the test of our memory, seeing whether we've got it all back to how it was when we cornered the grey child and had it trapped in one room. Seeing whether it's managed to learn something new while it was away wherever spirits tend to go.
See if it's angry with us and how deadly that might end up being.
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